


The Waiting

by Finely Honed (jaqen_hgar)



Series: Hard Promises [2]
Category: Captain America (Movies), Iron Man (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Alternate Universe - No Powers, Angst with a Happy Ending, Bucky Barnes Has Issues, Bucky Barnes Recovering, Getting Back Together, Heartache, Heartbreak, M/M, Post-Break Up, Prosthesis, Self-Esteem Issues, Tony Stark Feels, Tony Stark Needs a Hug
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-05-23
Updated: 2015-05-23
Packaged: 2018-03-31 21:11:37
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,504
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3993034
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jaqen_hgar/pseuds/Finely%20Honed
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>
  <span class="small">Prompt: I would REALLY like to see one where it's like the ending of the movie Hitch. Tony reaches out to Bucky after a breakup saying how they should be together but Bucky turning him down. Bucky then realizes that he can't live without tony, and tries to win him back even though Tony is now with some other guy.</span>
</p>
<p>“Hi.”</p>
<p>Bucky felt almost like he’d been sucker punched. One minute he was fine, he was going through his day, minding his own business, and then the next he was shaking, struggling with the sensation of his heart plunging down into his stomach.</p>
<p>“Tony.”</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Waiting

**Author's Note:**

> This is technically part of the [Imagine Tony & Bucky](http://archiveofourown.org/series/227312) series, but there are already 3 stories in this AU, and a couple more planned, so I decided to give it a series of its own.
> 
> Part three takes place immediately following their lunch date.

“Hi.”

Bucky felt almost like he’d been sucker punched. One minute he was fine, he was going through his day, minding his own business, and then the next he was shaking, struggling with the sensation of his heart plunging down into his stomach.

“Tony.”

Tony looked like shit. The only problem was, it's a good look for him. He wore it with an alarming amount of ease and comfort. Far too wild around the eyes, his smile tight and not particularly steady. Bucky recognized the little edge of mania that came out whenever Tony was significantly sleep deprived. Dark circles under his eyes, but he’s still Tony, is still beautiful, from the slight stubble to the rumpled clothing, which looks like it’s been slept in. His hair is just a bit too long, and he’s been biting his fingernails, has his thumbnail between his teeth now, worrying at the cuticle.

“Sorry,” Tony said, holding up a hand as if worried Bucky was going to run. “It’s just,” he pivoted slightly, pointing behind him, then turned back to Bucky. One of Tony’s many expensive cars was parked across the street. “I saw you, and…”

“Uh, no.” The words stuck in his throat, so Bucky cleared it, tried again. “It’s fine. Um. How are you?”

His heart shouldn’t be racing, but it is. His mouth shouldn’t be dry, and he definitely shouldn’t need to shove his hand in his pocket to hide the shaking. Tony stared at him, making it hard to breathe, hard to think, because this was the first time they’d been this close to each other in ages.

Tony’s smile wavered, and it doesn’t seem fair that he can still see through his attempts to look alright when he very clearly isn’t. He won’t maintain eye contact, but in the moments Bucky is able to see his eyes, they’re bright with tears.

“Um, happy to see you,” Tony answered after a moment. “You look great, by the way.”

“Thanks,” he said, more out of habit that anything. “You too. Are those new glasses?”

“Yeah, yeah, they are.” Tony’s face did the wonderful, achingly familiar quirking up in response to this, which didn’t help Bucky feel any calmer. “That’s, um. Okay, sorry, this is weird. It is, isn’t it? Weird?”

Despite himself, Bucky laughed. “Yeah, a little weird.”

Tony appeared encouraged by the laugher, which was probably bad. “So let me take you to lunch. We can catch up properly.”

Ten minutes later, sitting in a diner with an untouched cup of coffee in front of him, it didn’t feel any less weird. Tony was fiddling with the silverware, and trying not to stare, while Bucky wondered for the thousandth time why the hell he’d accepted the offer.

“You look really good.”

“So you keep saying.”

He felt like an ass as soon as he saw the telltale twitching around the corners of Tony’s mouth. His fingers tapped against the table for a moment, and Bucky was still staring at them when Tony asked, “How are you feeling?”

“Fine.” His voice is far too quiet, lacks conviction. “It’s, um. As good as it’s gonna get, I guess? I don’t know, Tony.”

“It’s just, you know, you said you’d call, and, um,” Tony looked up, and it was just so strange to be sitting opposite him again, hearing his voice, seeing his face, that Bucky almost had trouble following what Tony was saying. “Sorry, it’s just really, really good to see you. I  _miss_  you.”

Despite himself, Bucky’s eyes filled up with tears. “Tony…”

“No, just, hear me out,” Tony asked, eyes wide and wounded behind his new glasses. “I know you said, ah, that you wanted time, and I get that—really, baby—I understand. You were so good with me, after my parents, and I just… I wanted to do the same for you, okay? Respect what you were going through, and not try to fix it, just give you what you needed.”

It isn’t fair that Tony sounds so vulnerable. Bucky was the one sitting with his heart in his throat, the prosthetic suddenly feeling too heavy and alien in a way it hasn’t in quite some time.

“But it’s been  _two years_ ,” Tony continued, his voice cracking. “Two years, and I  _still_ love you, Buck. And before you ask, I haven’t been with anyone the entire time. I’ll keep doing it, too, waiting for you, I mean, but…”

“Tony, stop, okay, I…”

“ _Am_  I waiting?” Tony asked. “Do you have any intention of ever… ever giving us another chance?”

“I just don’t know if I can do it yet, Tony.”

Tony leaned across the table, grabbing his hand, and despite himself, Bucky squeezed back at the contact. It had all seemed reasonable, and for the best when he didn’t have to look into Tony’s wounded eyes.

“ _Yet_? Yet is good, okay,” he said, smiling. “We don’t have to pick up where we left off,” Tony continued, looking hopeful now. “We could always start back at the beginning? Maybe… maybe you let me take you to lunch once a week, so we can…”

There is a part of Bucky that wants nothing more than to lean across the table and kiss Tony quiet. Just grab him by the front of his shirt, and bring their lips together, taste him, smell him, lose himself in the familiarity. The rest of him knows that if Tony could actually see him now, under the clothes, without the prosthetic…

“By  _yet_ , I meant any relationship,” Bucky blurted, cutting Tony off midstream. “I don’t… I’m not the same man you knew, Tony.”

“Bullshit,” Tony snapped, looking legitimately angry. “You’re the same stubborn asshole I fell in love with.”

“A lot can change in two years,” Bucky insisted.

“Why won’t you give me a chance?” Tony asked, whatever control he had left slipping. “I love you, and I gotta believe you didn’t spontaneously stop loving me after the accident. I should be  _with_  you, helping you, or…”

“I don’t need your help, Tony.”

“So, what, Steve’s allowed to help you, to see this ‘new man’ you are, and I’m just cut out of your life? That’s it?”

Tony sounded absolutely heartbroken. Over the last year, as he’d slowly let every one of Tony’s calls go to voicemail, and had ignored his emails, or the letters he’d sent, he’d imagined his boyfriend had moved on. Some part of him hadn’t had any trouble at all picturing Tony out partying, living the good life, while Bucky relearned how to do everything one handed. And he’d been angry at Tony, which was sort of ridiculous, especially since now it seemed a lot more like Tony hadn’t done any of that. He’d been waiting.

“Did it ever occur to you that I never really loved you to begin with?” Bucky asked, biting the inside of his cheek.

Tony’s mouth fell open in a wordless cry of disbelief, lower lip quivering before his mouth closed again, his nostrils flaring as his face flushed. Bucky watched Tony’s fingers curl into a fist, saw the way he tensed, and hated himself. The only problem was, he couldn’t really think of any other way to do this that wouldn’t leave Tony wasting years of his life waiting on him. Yes, he was fucked up, but he owed Tony that much, at least.

“I don’t believe that.”

“We were kids when we met,” Bucky reminded him. “How many high school couples do you know that actually stay together? We would’ve wound up in the exact same situation either way. At least now you have an answer, and can get on with your life.”

As he watched, Tony slowly, painfully managed to regain his composure, finger and thumb sliding up under the bridge of his glasses to push away tears before he swallowed, and exhaled shakily. “Wow.” He lost it again for a moment, his mouth twisting as he struggled not to cry.

“I’m sorry,” Tony said when he could speak again. The sound of him pushing his chair back from the table seemed unnaturally loud. “I thought… Um,  _fuck_.” Tony yanked his wallet out of his pocket, and threw money down on the table.

“I don’t want your money.”

Finally, a bit of anger made it onto Tony’s voice. “I get that you’re hurting, and that apparently you’re the only one whose feelings count for anything,” he said, crumpling up the bills and throwing them at Bucky’s chest, “but I remember, okay? I remember how good we were together. That wasn’t bullshit, Bucky. I miss you so fucking much, and…” Bucky looked up at him, and whatever it was Tony saw there broke him. “You don’t, do you?” he asked, sounding breathless. “You don’t miss me at all.”

Bucky fought to keep his expression blank as he watched Tony storm out of the diner, even though he wanted to scream. Even though he wanted to run after him, to beg him to stay as much as he wanted to go home, crawl into bed, and never come out again.

+

After a week in bed, Steve didn’t give him a choice anymore. Dragged his ass right up and out, and that was how Bucky met Dr. Baker, which in turn led to meeting Sam Wilson, which in turn led to him realizing just how bad the depression had really gotten.

+

Maybe it wasn’t surprising that Tony came up a lot in his therapy sessions.

“Have you considered getting back in touch, apologizing?”

Bucky sighed, hung his head. “Yeah, of course. I think about it every day. Doesn’t mean I should do it. The best thing I can do for him is let him get on with his life.”

“Doesn’t Tony get to have a say in what is and isn’t good for him?”

Despite the hours spent talking about him, Dr. Baker clearly didn’t understand Tony at all.

+

Again, it shouldn’t have come as any surprise that Steve wasn’t content to take the slow and steady approach Dr. Baker and Sam were.

“I hope you’re happy.”

Bucky looked down at the tabloid, ignoring the various headlines competing for his attention, zeroing in on the grainy photo of Tony leaving a nightclub with some blond guy. Even though it’s a shitty photo, Bucky can still see how rough Tony looks. The guy beside him has an almost predatory glint in his eyes, his hand on the back of Tony’s neck as he shoves his way through the crowd.

“He’s moving on. That’s good.”

“Bucky, are you kidding me?” Steve asked, slapping the magazine against the table. “He loves you, and he’s miserable, even I can see that. You keep telling me he’s going to reject you once he really sees what he’s dealing with,” Steve continued, his voice so serious that Bucky had to look up into his angry blue eyes, “but I think that’s bullshit. I think you’re scared to death that he’ll still love you, even after.”

“Shut up.”

“You’re so hung up on hating yourself that you’re throwing away something that doesn’t come around very often. Genuine love. And one day, you’re going to look back, and realize you regret losing Tony more than losing the arm.”

It probably wouldn’t have surprised anyone that Bucky needed a little time to recover from that particular talk.

+

The worst part was, Steve was right.

+

“It’s already too late,” he said, waking Steve up at two in the morning. “He’s with this Tiberius guy now. The things I said? He’s never gonna talk to me again, Stevie.”

Steve tugged Bucky down into the bed beside him. “Maybe not at first, but he will eventually.”

“How can you know that?” Bucky asked, pressed his damp face against Steve’s shoulder.

“He’s been in love with you since he was sixteen, Bucky. If two years of waiting around didn’t change his mind about that, a couple dates with this Tiberius jerk sure as hell isn’t.”

+

The number he had for Tony was disconnected, and he didn’t get any replies to his emails. Bucky wanted to go back in time and punch himself in the face. Sure, they’d still talked, and seen each other occasionally during the first year, but Tony had been dealing with being cut off for most of the second. Two days of coming to his decision and not being able to get a hold of him, and Bucky was losing his mind.

“Asshole,” he said to himself.

Pepper’s number was the same.

“No way,” she hissed, sounding like she’d choke him through the phone if she could. “After your last little meeting?”

“Pepper, please, I know I fucked up, but I’ve been in therapy, and…”

“Good for you.”

He probably deserved to be hung up on.

+

The strange thing was, he’d been so numb during their time apart that Tony’s absence had been a relief. It meant he didn’t have to think or feel anything, could just curl up in the depression. Only, now that he was actually beginning to work on himself, and was feeling better (or at least less fucked up) over the motorcycle crash that’d cost him his arm, Tony was all he could think about.

It was surreal, looking at old photos of the two of them. He traced a finger over his arm, but then became distracted by how ridiculously young Tony looked. Jailbait, through and through. There was Bucky, eyeliner smudged all around his eyes, and an arm draped around Tony’s shoulders, while Tony puffed on a cigarette and tried to look tough for the camera.

Photo after photo, watching them slowly lose their baby faces, begin looking less like boys and more like men. Photos Steve had taken, photos Bucky and Tony had taken alone. Tony sprawled across Bucky’s bed, naked, smiling over his shoulder at the camera. The two of them, curled up together on the couch.

Now that he was in less pain, it was easier to remember, easier to believe that he’d been happy once. Happy with Tony. Ever since the punk had marched on over and stolen a drag off his cigarette, hitting on him so aggressively he’d actually been intimidated. Once you got to know him, though, it was painfully obvious that Tony was a big softy at heart.

If only Bucky hadn’t broken it.

+

“Hi.”

Tony stopped in his tracks, turning to glare at Steve. “That’s low, Rogers!”

“Just hear him out, okay?” Steve asked, holding up his hands. Tony might have been dodging Bucky’s calls, but Steve had managed to convince Tony to come have lunch with him at his apartment. Apparently he’d neglected to tell him Bucky would be there, too. “If you don’t like what he has to say, I’ll make sure he leaves you alone. Deal?”

Bucky held his breath, waiting for Tony to decline the offer, but to his surprise, Tony said, “Deal.”

“Great, thanks, Tony. I’ll be just outside,” he pointed to the door, then gave Bucky a nod and put himself on the other side of it.

Tony kept his back to Bucky for a moment before turning around, arms folded across his chest. He wouldn’t look any higher than Bucky’s chin. “Go ahead, say whatever’s so important that Steve is willing to lie for you.”

Bucky exhaled shakily. “I’m sorry.”

Tony’s lower lip trembled, his teeth biting down into it to hold it steady. “Cool. If I accept your apology, do I get to leave?”

“Tony, I’m… I’m so sorry I didn’t trust you,” he swore, taking a step closer. “Only, you gotta know, it wasn’t you. I hated myself so much that… I don’t know, I guess the idea of you still loving me, even after I lost the arm, was terrifying.”

Tony looked up at him, shook his head. “Of course I still loved you,” he snapped, brows drawing together. “Do you have any idea how much easier it would have been if I didn’t? I spent days in the hospital thinking you weren’t going to pull through, and then you  _did_ , and I was so relieved, even if you were pushing me away, because at least you were alive.”

Bucky squeezed his eyes closed. “I’m sorry.”

“That doesn’t change anything!” Tony shouted, his voice cracking. “Damn it, Bucky.”

“I did miss you,” Bucky insisted, taking another step closer. “Whenever I could feel something, it was for you. I didn’t… I didn’t realize how bad it had gotten. After our lunch, Steve found me curled up in bed and after a week of that he didn’t give me a choice about getting help. I should’ve done it right after, but… I don’t know. I kept waiting to wake up from the nightmare. Talking to someone about it would mean admitting it’d really happened.”

“I would have helped you,” Tony almost whispered.

“I know you would’ve,” Bucky sighed. “S’why I ran away from you. You’d show me everything I had left to live for, and everything I still was, and probably even find a way to fix me somehow, and I just… I couldn’t do it. I’m sorry.”

Tony hung his head, hands folded behind his neck, shoulders shaking as he breathed heavily. “Why am I here?” he asked, sounding incredibly young, and vulnerable.

“Every day, I’d watch the clock, and count down the time before I could go outside and wait for you to walk by on your way home. I’m such an idiot that it might never have occurred to me that I could just walk up to you, and ask you out.”

Tony exhaled sharply, looked up.

“You’ve always been braver than me, Tony,” Bucky swore. “It’s one of the many things I love about you.”

Tony’s nostrils began to flare, his eyes welling up with tears. “Please don’t fuck with me right now,” he said softly. “The last two and a half years have been hell, and that was _before_  you decided to rip my heart out and throw it back in my face.”

“I’m so,  _so_  sorry.” Bucky swore, wincing. “I’m so stupid and stubborn; I actually convinced myself I was doing you a favor by pushing you away. And I know I don’t deserve it, but I’m gonna spend the rest of my life trying to earn another shot at it with you, Tony. I remember, too. How good we were together? And I never stopped loving you.”

Tony stared at him, looking scared, and hopeful, and slowly, Bucky took the remaining steps necessary to bring them close enough to touch. He raised his hand, let it hover in the air for a moment before resting it gently against the side of Tony’s face.

“Steve was right; I can learn to live without the arm,” he said, brushing his thumb over Tony’s cheek, “but I won’t ever figure out how I’m supposed to live without you.”

Tony smiled at this, even as the tears spilled down over his cheeks, and he sniffled. “It’s not that easy,” he said, looking away.

“Not expecting it to be. I need to earn back your trust. I… I was thinking maybe you let me take you to lunch once a week? We can talk, see where things go from there.”

Tony grabbed a fistful of his shirt, gave him a little shake. “Yeah, okay,” he agreed, still looking down. “Or, um, maybe more than once a week?”

“Sure,” Bucky agreed, disbelieving. “Whenever and however you want to do it, Tony.”

Tony looked up at him, eyes wide and hopeful. “And if I want to hug you right now?”

Bucky yanked him into his arms, and held on like someone was going to try to make him stop. Tony might have sobbed against his shoulder, and he might have done the same against his neck, but it was okay, because suddenly, for the first time since the accident, Bucky felt whole again.

“Can our first lunch be today?” Tony asked, almost a half hour later.

“Absolutely.”

“I’m still mad at you,” Tony said.

“I deserve it.”

“It’s not magically going to get all better,” he added, but he was holding Bucky’s hand, so that was okay.

“I know.”

“I love you, Buck.”

Bucky pressed a kiss against Tony’s forehead, feeling relief wash over and through him. “I love you, too, Tony.”

+

Two years later, they were sprawled in bed together, looking through all of their old photos, comparing their past selves with the present versions in their wedding photos.

“I was much poutier when I was a babyfaced boy,” Tony pointed out, holding up a photo of him from when they’d first started dating. “Look how innocent and sweet!”

“You’re kidding, right? That was the weekend you almost got me arrested,” Bucky swore, snatching up the photo and staring down at it with a smile. “You were a menace. A beautiful, one, but talk about a handful.”

“Pfft, you loved it,” Tony swore, sprawling against Bucky’s side.

“Yeah I did,” he agreed. Because it was true.


End file.
